


The One They Call The Phantom

by handsometabbyc



Series: Welcome to Death Records [2]
Category: Phantom of the Paradise (1974)
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Semi-established relationship, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsometabbyc/pseuds/handsometabbyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still unwilling to face Death Records, Winslow retreats to the belly of the Paradise to continue his work, but reamearges when he learns his boss may be more sinister then appearences would suggest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing the series from here, I thought I'd have to do a complete revamp of this chapter for it to make sense, but thankfully it wasn't the case. (of course there might be inconsistencies I'm unaware of, so if there are do tell me. :)

It had been four days since he’d been in New York, business in LA. It had gone well, but it was good to be home. He sat in the back seat of his Bentley, frowning in thought as they pulled out of the airport.

“The Swanage, sir?” Floyd quiped, the 'sir' at the end was spoken with an almost sarcasm. Swan had mentioned once years ago that it would make sense if he addressed such a way, and he never lived it down. 

“We ought to stop by the Paradise first.” He replied, lighting a cigar and leaning back sullenly.

It was late so the comings and goings in the Paradise had dwindled down to the occasional custodial or security member. They occasionally greeted Swan when he passed then in the halls when but he ignored them, Floyd trailing behind him like a shadow.

He came to the basement area where the grandiose that was the paradise seemed to fall away until there was nothing but painted brick and cement. He walked down a final case of stairs reaching a metal door one of his motorcycle thugs absently stood by. The man started to attention when he approached, opening the door with nothing more than a stormy look from Swan, closing it behind him.

Aside from some carpeting the small room was not much more elaborate then the basement outside. Its furnishings mainly consisted of a couple chairs, electric piano, and desk, the latter of which had Winslow was slumped over asleep at. He was in that awful hooded ratty wool trench coat he’d gotten at some second hand store he insisted on wearing to hide his gnarled features.

He hadn’t always been like this. Even if Winslow was never suave nor handsome in the traditional sense, he did seen to have a charm about him. A bit of goofy innocence but with a touch of screwed up humor. Everybody couldn’t help but like him even if he was a bit odd.

He’d been working for death records for about a year when “The accident” happened, a mishap with a record press of all things. Swan’s people managed to get him out alive, but the damage had been done. The charmingly goofy man was gone, replaced with a bitter recluse who didn’t make happy little small talk, who people had taken to calling “The Phantom” behind his back.

Needless to say, most were surprised at the apparent personality change, how he used to be ‘such a nice man.’ The fact of the matter was anyone who knew him well enough could tell you that wasn’t the case. Swan would often catch him when he was working late hours and they would talk over drinks, and the tired songwriter would open up about his innermost thoughts, some of them innocent and normal as expected, others much more devious and dark in nature. Perhaps that's what inevitably attracted him to Winslow.

“Winslow?” Swan whispered cautiously, with a mild look of concern. He spotted Winslow’s latest effort under his arm, and after some hesitance curiosity got the better of him and he carefully eased it out from under him to get a closer look. He frowned as he read, it looked brilliant always but it was barely legible.

The sound of Winslow turning on his voice box brought him out of his thoughts.

“…I must’ve fallen asleep.” He said, embarrassed.  
  
"You know we have perfectly fine offices at headquarters.” Swan told him with a lightly chiding tone. “Why do I keep finding you here?”

“…There’s too many people at headquarters.” He said, pulling his coat closer around him. “What are you doing here though? Checking up on me?”

Swan smiled a little at that. “…Would that be such a bad thing?”

Winslow laughed, flashing half a mouth full of silver teeth, the ones he lost in the accident and Swan suppressed a cringe at the distorted sound the voice box turned it into. He’d gotten used to the mechanism’s sound, and he was actually quite proud of it. He was the one who made it after all. But He missed his laugh, his real laugh, not to mention his real voice.

Thinking about it reminded him of how he’d convinced him to come write (but not sing) for death records. It was all in the name of business of course, but there was a painful irony to it.

“Singing your own music is overrated.” He’d said when he called him back. He’d have every intention of just taking the poor schmucks music, he had just all too trustingly given it to him after all, what did he expect? Despite initial intentions though, ultimately the need for more won over. “…Your own voice is so finite, with creative control of who sings your music you can have any sound you like.”

Of course it still wasn’t exactly telling the truth, and it got pretty hairy at one point when that fact came to fruition, but somehow things worked out.

“…You always have some ulterior motive.” Winslow said, bringing him back to the present.

“I just thought of you when I came back from California. Thought you might want a ride home if you were still here. Hell of a time to get a taxi after all.”

Winslow nodded in agreement. “…I guess I just lost track of time.” He got up, collecting papers, confusingly brushing his hands over the desk for the papers Swan had been looking at.

“Oh! Sorry…” Chuckling, Swan who’d been still holding the papers handed them to Winslow. “I couldn’t resist taking a peek.”

“What did you think?” Winslow said with a tired eagerness as he put it away with the rest in his briefcases.

“We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just get you home alright?”

“…Can I come home with you?” He said tentatively. “I mean, to sleep. I can’t seem to get any sleep at my apartment lately.”

“Of course, that’s alright. Plenty of spare rooms at the Swanage after all.”

As they were walking down the halls Winslow’s voice box made a harsh rasping noise from his labored breath, no doubt still waking up. Winslow grunted in displeasure, turning it off.

a moment later he got a glimpse from the corner of his eye of Winslow making hand motions at Floyd, who returned them. Though concerned he ignored it until they got into the car.

“What were you saying to Floyd?” Swan said as they settled in. Winslow started to turn the voice box but Swan stopped him.

“Wait…Could you sign it instead? I’ve actually been getting better at understanding it.”

Winslow smiled, and signed, ‘ _I was just asking if it was cold outside_.’

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have done it behind my back if it was just that.”

Admittedly he was a little jealous about how much better Floyd was at sign language then him. Before he’d made him the voice box a nurse at the hospital had taught him a little of it, and he caught on. Floyd, who apparently had a kid sister who was deaf, learned about it and they would occasionally interact through it.

‘… _I’m glad your back, I missed you_.’

“I missed you too, I wish you could’ve come. You know how to explain your music better than me. Everyone loved your latest work by the way.”

‘ _I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for that_.’

“It’s alright.” Swan said gently, before changing back the subject. “…but seriously, what did you say to Floyd?”

Winslow smiled sheepishly before starting to sign again. ‘ _Was just asking if anyone was waiting for you back home._ ’

“Hey, Why do you think I came looking for you?” he asked, affectionately giving his knee a squeeze.

Winslow made that damn goofy smile he always made when he was happy, and took his hand. Swan grinned back and moved closer, putting his head on his shoulder. He heard the gasping laughter that Winslow made without the voice box, feeling it reverberate through his body. He pulled away to face him again.

“What is it?”

Winslow, still smiling, signed, ‘ _You aren't bad at this_.’

Swan, paused in though before signing ‘ _thanks_ ’ in return before leaning back against him, just in time to feel the laughter die down.


	2. Chapter 2

It was still dark out when Winslow woke up. He looked around confusedly at the unfamiliar room and unfamiliar bed, until his sight finally fell on the familiar shape he assumed was Swan.

He jabbed the shape a little, and when it let out an annoyed Swanish mutter he smiled. It made him want to stay a bit longer, not go slipping out into another cold foggy morning, for reasons he wasn't so clear about at the moment.

And yet as always he turned his focus away from Swan to getting dressed.

That might’ve been the end of it if he hadn’t taken the wrong turn. He would’ve left the Swanage and they would’ve acted like it never happened as per usual, until the next time it happened of course.

He hadn’t gone far down the wrong corridor when he realized this when something caught his eye: books.

It wasn’t a massive room, but impressive none the less. Shaped something like a hexagon, with every wall holding a bookshelf that went from the floor to the ceiling, a ladder there to access the higher shelves.

The only wall that wasn't occupied was one that held what used to be a fireplace but had been repurposed to be something of a nest, tastefully upholstered in a deep red and filled with cushions and blankets.

He’d make a bird joke but honestly he was a tad bit envious and the image of Swan curled up there was touching.

He should go, he reminded himself, though as he started to pour over the books he became more reluctant. Swan may be an asshole but they did have similar tastes in books.

…Maybe just a minute. He thought to himself.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Swan blinked awake in the morning sunlight groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up to see Winslow fully dressed, lounging on the other side of the bed, several books next to him and another in his hands, and smiled sleepily.

“...You came back.” Swan said, and laughed a little at Winslow’s look of surprise. “...You woke me up when you left." He answered the wordless question. " I assumed you would’ve been miles from here, but I guess you found the library.” He said groggily, reaching for his glasses and fumbling to put them on.

“Something of a library.” Winslow replied. He noted in the morning light the black silk pajamas swan was wearing had swans on them, like the playboy symbol but on Swan it came across as dorky.

“Oh, the nook.” Swan said with a little smile. “I assume, since its pretty close to here. Almost  a circular room right?”

“It had a nest. Did you make it?” Winslow asked with amusement, putting aside the book and crawling over to lay next to Swan, feeling somewhat affectionate towards him at the moment, as if being in the room gave him a renewed feeling of comradery towards the man.

“When I was a kid my mother had in re-purposed for me,” He gestured to the ceiling, signifying the house. “This place, it always scared me when I was little, she wanted me to feel safe.”

“It doesn’t scare you anymore?” Winslow asked uncomfortably. “Because honestly it kinda gives me the creeps. That's why I came back to this room…I guess I didn’t want to be alone."

“Don’t blame you. Lots of memory’s in these big spooky walls, not all of them good.”

“I always assumed you built it yourself, or at least brought it and slapped a contrived name on it.” Winslow said, resting a chin on Swan’s shoulder, the voice box vibrating against Swan's arm as he talked.

Normally Swan didn’t like people being this close to him in the morning but it was Winslow, and he was always willing to make a bit of an exception for Winslow.

“No... It was built by my granddaddy, some eighty years ago. It’s a family name, lot of Swans before me.”

“And yet you chose to live here.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad: I made some changes, learned to live with it. I may not particularly like it, but its family…all the family I have left really.”

“Sound’s depressing.” Winslow said, tiredly putting his head on Swan’s lap. Swan smiled a little as he did, there was something so natural about the action even if it was something he rarely did. As if they didn’t act like a couple of tight asses it’d be something he’d do all the time.

Swan felt a pang of longing and hurriedly pushed the thought away. He couldn’t think like that, he’d just drive himself crazy.

Instead he stopped thinking and leaned back, fondly running his fingers through Winslow’s thick dark blond hair.

“…You’d be surprised what you can learn to live with.” Swan said wistfully.

Winslow loved the way Swan’s fingers felt running through his hair, and closed his eyes, feeling warmer then he had in a while. Like he wasn’t in this bitter city, this house or even this room (to Swan’s credit, it wasn’t that room with mirrors, but it had a morose aspect to it all the same.)

Part of him, the part that was tired of being cold, didn’t want the feeling to go away. It made him want to tell him about his attempts to find a new apartment, one where they could be instead of this dreadful place.

But he didn’t, maybe because it felt like an admission of some sort. Or maybe because it felt silly to say to someone like Swan: Swan the Powerful, Swan the great… if Swan really wanted to get away he could…right?

Perhaps there were too many things he was keeping bottled up because he found himself looking up at Swan and asking, “How was LA? Was it warm?"

“Warmer them here.” He answered. “You should’ve come along, I wouldn’t have made you go to that meeting.”

“That’s not what I said.” Winslow argued, and Swan chuckled a little.

“Alright, but next time I go I promise I’ll insist you come.”

“…I always dreamed of uprooting and going somewhere it didn’t snow.” Winslow continued. “I always hated snow.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess it’s like what you said, you get to used to what home is. The music became what mattered most ultimately. So I stayed.”

“...I like having you here.” Swan responded.

“In this house or this city?” Winslow said, reluctantly moving next to Swan again so he could see him better as they talked.

“Well, both, but I meant the city, I’m glad you stayed.”

There was a poignant silence between them, and Swan found himself having to look away, eyes falling on the pile of books, a weathered looking yearbook within them that read ‘1952’ on the spine caught his eye. He must've lingered on it a little too long because Winslow followed his gaze, and reached for it to Swan’s dismay.

“I found this in that room, guess I thought it looked interesting.” Winslow said sheepishly.

Swan winced. “Oh…uh…”

Winslow looked up at him, smiling confusedly. “What? Something wrong?”

“No…” Swan said, sounding resigned. “That’s just mine, it’s… kinda personal. You know how it is, embarrassing high school pictures and all that.”

“What?” He looked at the cover, rolling over on his elbow. “…that can't be right, the date's about ten years off."

"Wait, how old do you think I am?" Swan said, affronted.

"I don't know, early thir-" He faultered at the look on Swan's face. "...Late twenties? You can't be younger then that."

"Right, because of my accomplishments." Swan finished with relief

"Well, that too, but I was going to say was going to say it was because you'd have aged horribly.

Swan glared at him, plucking the yearbook from his hands. "I'll show you aging horribly."  He opened it and flipped through the pages until he got to a collection of senior portraits and tapped one of a smug looking blond kid. “That’s me.”

“It certainly is.” Winslow said with mock amazement.“…Or more likely you’re messing with me.”

“What? No…my name's right there.”

"I don't know...maybe someone gave it to you as prank gift. I don't understand why, but that's the only reasonable explanation."

Swan sat there for a moment then it occurred to him this wasn't worth arguing against and  broke into nervous laughter. “Yeah…I uh guess you got me there.” He brightened up, then smiling mischievously as he crawled out of bed. “…But never mind that, come with me.”

“What, why?” Winslow protested as swan pulled on a robe over his pajamas.

“I thought you might like to see something. Just come on, you’ll love it, I promise.” Swan insisted.

Admittedly the halls of the Swanage weren’t as bad when he was being led by swan. He seemed to know where he was going and it feel less like he would be sucked into some hell abyss.

“How much have you changed in here? Aside from…you know...the fuck room?”

"I prefer to think of it more as a lounge." Swan said. “...But not a lot really. Mostly just general maintenance, restoration, and sealing off half the house so certain idiots don’t accidentally get lost.” He said with a little wink.

“Ha ha.” Winslow said dryly.

“I was referring to myself actually. It’s a phobia of mine, ever since it happen when I was six.”

“So says the child prodigy.”

“My sense for music doesn’t mean I have the best sense of direction.” Grumbled Swan as he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

“…Holy shit.” Muttered Winslow when they walked into the room and Swan turned on the lights, revealing rows upon rows of bookshelves. Stairs led up to a balcony where there were even more.  Swan grinned giddily at Winslow’s awe.

He assumed Swan was alluding to a bigger library but no assumption could prepare him for this.

“Anything you could ever imagine, but more.” Swan said proudly.

“…how did you even get this much?”

“Four generations of book lovers.” He said. “Five if you include my mother. Not a decedent but…I certainly didn't get the smarts from daddy dearest.”

Winslow looked at him wearily. “You didn’t like your father huh?”

“He was a loser, a gambler, and an overall embarrassment to the family and would've fucked us over financially if it hadn't been for me.” Swan said smugly.

“I don’t know, he’s dead now.” Winslow said, preoccupied with. “Or at least I'm assuming, there’s really no need to be so bitter after a point."

Swan opened his mouth to retort then closed it, shaking his head. “I’m going to go down to the kitchen to get us some fucking breakfast made and just leave you to really think about you just said.” He snapped before storming out, and Winslow couldn’t help but think how cute he looked while angry, especially in his robe and jammies.

He didn’t know why he’d said it, he’d always run his mouth before his mind had a chance to to catch up. But in his defense, he really didn't need to hear about Swan's daddy issues. He had enough of his own.

As he strolled through the library, feeling mildly guilty, an antique painting of a familiar looking man in dated clothes with flowing locks and a mustache caught his attention.

A grandfather, He thought to himself at first then remembered how nervous Swan had been when telling the so called ‘joke’ about his father. He might’ve actually been trying to tell him something.

Of course it was a joke, Winslow reassured himself with a frown as he stared at the painting. It really did look just like Swan.

He didn't know what Swan had been trying to tell him but he was starting to get an idea, and he didn't like it.

\---------------------------------------

He was looking for his coat when Swan found him again.

 “…You leaving?” Swan said with dismay. "If this is about before, I'm not that upset."

“Its not that, I uh…remembered something I had to do.” He said. “Sorry about before. I just…have to go.”

Swan's frown deepened. “…But there’s breakfast. I had the kitchen fix you up one of those western omelets you like.”

“I’m…really not hungry.”

“Not hungry?” Swan said. “You’re never not hungry. Is something wrong?”

“Sorry.” Winslow said flashing him an odd smile. “It's urgent."

Swan sighed with frustration. “...Will you at least take it to go?” He said.

“Fine.” Winslow relented, "I guess it can wait a minute. And I'll need my coat, I can't seem to find it..."

Swan turned to a man Winslow hadn’t notice standing some ways down the hall and gave a little not towards Winslow. When the man disappeared Swan smiled reassuringly. “Won’t be just a moment.”

“This was…this was something, really.” Winslow said uncomfortably.

“It was fun.” Swan insisted.

“I had a nice time.” Winslow replied, trying to smile convincingly. “Really.”

A man with Winslow's coat and a box walked up to them and Swan took the coat from him, holding it open for Winslow who obliged him by threading his arms through, making a face as he shrugged it on. “It feels...It feels different.”

“I might’ve had them clean it.” Swan said said, pushing the takeout box in his hands. He smile forlornly up at him, adjusting Winslow’s coat lapels with an odd sort of tenderness.  “…You can come back any time you want of course, even if I’m not here. Keep that in mind won’t you?

“Maybe...” Winslow said, grappling with how to say goodbye. In the end he settled with an awkward kiss on the top of Swan's head, which he received a mildly confused and dirty look for. "Anyway, I'll see you around."


	3. Chapter 3

He didn’t know how he finally did it.

Talking to Swan was one thing, Swan was an asshole and half their conversations were arguments. Or at least he could think of Swan as an asshole, so he didn’t have to feel guilty when he came back, guns a blazing as it were.

...But with Phoenix it was different. Plus he knew she’d be pissed about him seeing Swan first, a fact that Swan no doubt bragged about at some point.

He’d been staring at the phone one second and the next he was hearing Phoenix’s voice on the other end.

“Phoenix!” He blurted out.  
“…yes, who is this?” She asked confusedly.

“Oh…sorry, its Winslow.”

“Seriously?” She exclaimed, loud enough for him to jerk the phone away from his ear. “Is this some sort of sick joke?!”

“No joke.” He said uncomfortably. “I just…I lost my voice in the accident, had to have it replaced.”

“Oh Winslow, I'm so sorry." She answered regretfully. "Yeah, I heard about that. It was just...I thought it was some asshole."

Winslow felt a wave of dread go through him. "Do you...you get a lot of those?"

There was a hesitancy on the other side of the phone. "I meant...I was just worried is all, and it's been awhile."

"sorry about that, not calling…and for talking to Swan before you.” He added, though immediately regretted.

“You’ve been in touch with that egotistical dwarf and not me?!” Her voice was shrill again and he winced.

“Phoenix…” He said pleadingly, and he heard her sigh over the phone.

“I’m sorry…that one just caught me off guard. You wanna continue this somewhere in person?”

“What?” He said, as if she’d suggested something horribly foreign.

“Meet somewhere, like the corner café?” She was referring to a café down the street where she lived that they used to get lunch at. “It’s a little hard to understand you on the phone.”

“Oh…I guess that’d be alright, if you’re not too busy.” He didn’t know what purpose saying that would serve, it wouldn’t have even mattered if she was. Perhaps it was some attempt to delay the inevitable, he missed Phoenix but wasn’t exactly eager to be face to face with her, let alone in a well-lit place.

“No, you caught me at a good time. I’ve been busy with Beef and the gang but I’m off for the week.”

“Sounds great.” He said with a forced smile.

\---

Their usual place was one he’d avoided for months, and it felt almost alien coming back. His usual haunts were dank and dirty greasy spoons where a fellow like him didn’t exactly stick out. Now he was shifting in his seat, feeling oddly dirty in his shabby clothing and long coat, the hood over his head.

“Can I uh…get you something sir?” A waitress said apprehensively, and he shook his head, sliding down in his seat. He was reluctant to speak with the voice box here, and was now realizing it might’ve been better if he’d waited for Phoenix outside.

“…Sir, if you’re not going to order anything I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Carol.” He heard Phoenix’s voice, speaking the waitresses name in an almost accusatory way. He looked up and she was standing there, in a long peasant dress and boots with an annoyed look on her face. “You remember Winslow don’t you? The composer?”

Winslow pulled down his hood, smiling uncomfortably when she looked at him. “Hey.” He said simply.

“Oh my, I am so sorry dear, I thought you were a uh…we just get so many vagrents you understand…”

“We’ll just have some coffee thank you.” Phoenix said.

“Some pie would be good too.” Winslow added, finding talking easier now that Phoenix was there. “A piece of that pecan.” He said, nodding towards the case.

“Of course hun…” She said. He turned his attention to Phoenix as she left, smirking a bit.

“Good timing.” He muttered.

“I cheated, I saw her talking to you through the window and kinda… hightailed it.” She said, gesturing towards the sidewalk outside.

“Well, it still counts.” He said with a smile, exposing his teeth a little, and Phoenix looked at them and could help but laugh a bit. “Nice chompers.” She said before putting a hand over her mouth. “Jesus, that was horrible I’m so sorry…”

“Its alright.” He said. “They only had silver ones on short notice at the time. Same reason my eyes don’t quite match.”

“Oh…” She said in realization. “I thought…I saw it and I was hoping you at least hadn’t lost your eye.” There it was, the discomforted look he was dreading, like with Swan but with more pity.

“No, blind as half a bat.” She looked perplexed so he continued. “You know, because you used to say I was blind as a bat?”

She groaned at the joke. “You’re horrible. And that doesn't even make sense."

"I know, sorry.” He said softly. The voice box took a little away from the sentiment, but thankfully not completely.

“It’s alright.” She said as Carol came back with a coffee pot and a slice of pie. Phoenix gave her a nod as she served them, muttering thanks before turning her attention back to Winslow.

“…So, you mentioned something about contacting Swan before me?”

“I thought you knew, that he’d told you.”

She rolled her eyes. “He did, but I assumed he was just running his mouth…you know how Swan is.”

“Well…It was unintentional.” Winslow said. “I got word he messed up my music, I was angry.”

“I understand Swan, but you really didn’t need to take it out on Beef.” Phoenix said with disapproval.

He couldn’t control the looked shock on his face. “I didn’t…You have no proof of that.”

“Beef’s never met you before, he somehow managed to know about certain distinct characteristics of yours.” She said dryly.

“…But lucky for you no one’s willing to believe for reasons I can’t imagine.”

“It was a temporary slip of judgement. I eventually realized he suited it, at least after Swan trashed it.” He shrugged. “Plus you were in it, so it wasn’t that bad.”

She couldn’t help but beam at that. “You…you went to opening night?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never missed an opening performance of yours, I wasn’t about to then.”

“…Was it you then who left the sunflower in my dressing room?” She asked hopefully. “It’s fine if you did, I just need to know it wasn’t some creep.”

“Yeah, that was me. I was gonna stay, but you know me…I overthink things. So uh…is beef still upset about…you know…”

“Beef’s in rocker mode at the moment, so he isn’t much of anything other than high off his ass.” She said. “It’s too bad, he has some actual talent when he’s not completely out of it.”

“I’m sure.” Winslow said coolly.

“I mean it, if it weren’t for a conflict of interest I bet you’d get along with him great-”

“Can we not talk about Beef…please?”

“Ok, but you were the one who brought him up.” She muttered defensively.

He cleared his throat leaning forward. “It’s just, I wanted…I wanted talk to you about something in particular.”

Her eyes went wide with concern. “…What?”

“I think something’s wrong with Swan.” He said in a hushed voice.

The worried look left her face and she tusked dismissively. “…No kidding, what was your first clue?”

“No, I mean…I don't think he’s human.” He said. “I was at the Swanage…”

She laughed at that. “Oh, the Swanage? I thought you two weren’t getting along.”

“I was having an off night and his timing was bad…or good, depending on how you look at it.” He said defensively.

“If Swan has anything it’s good timing.” Phoenix remarked. “But you were saying? What about him not being human?”

Winslow smile sheepishly before continuing. “See, I accidentally found an old yearbook of his, but at first I didn’t think it was his because it was twenty years old. It had a picture that looked just like him with his name, but I assumed it was a prank or something."

“That seems…reasonable-” Phoenix started, but Winslow shook his head, stopping her in her tracks.

“I don’t think so, when I think back on it he was acting weird, like he thought I’d caught him at something. Maybe I did, it makes a lot of sense and explains why he’s so secretive…” he trailed off, reluctant to get to his point.

“What is it?” Phoenix said gently.

“…Promise you won’t say it’s crazy.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try,” Phoenix said in a patient tone.

“Well...I think he’s a vampire.” Winslow said finally, looking at her with anticipation.

Phoenix sighed rubbing her temple. “Winslow…”

“Hear me out, he never wants his photo taken, lives in a creepy mansion…”

“Which is full of mirrors Winslow.” Phoenix said wearily. “…As is the paradise and Death records for that matter.”

“Maybe he’s a vampire who can use…mirrors...” Winslow said weakly. “…I don’t know, we shouldn’t assume we know all the rules.”

“Well I don’t know what to say, there are no 'rules' because vampires don’t exist. Maybe it was a prank like you said, or some relative that looks like him with the same name. There’s no need to pull a Beef.”

“Pull a what?”

“Do what Beef did and go throwing around outrageous claims.”

“Beef was right.” Winslow quipped. “Remember?”

“But no one believed him and thought he was crazy just because they know Swan speaks so highly of you. What’s going to protect you if you start making outlandish claims about Swan?”

Winslow raked his fingers shakily through his hair. “I’m…I’m not…”

Phoenix took his hand, an he looked up to see her looking back at him with sincere eyes.“…I think you’ve been through a lot, and aren’t thinking straight. I’m only saying this as a friend who doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. I don’t care how much Swan likes you, in the end he always put himself first and does whatever he can to eliminate threats.”

Winslow sighed, nodding. “Your probably right. Even if I was right-“

“Winslow—“

“I said ‘even’…Swan wouldn’t tolerate the threat.” Winslow said. “I don’t know why I even escalated it to this, sorry.”

“At the very least it got you to call me.” She said with a little shrug. “Silver lining, right?”

He nodded in agreement, suddenly feeling the need to bail, perhaps out of embarrassment, the entire thing feeling stupid now. “…I should really be getting back home.”

“But…but we just got here.” Phoenix protested.

“I know, I gotta get back to my…writing. But it really was good seeing you again.”

“I came here in my car, why don’t I at least drive you home?”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, I can just take the subway. Besides I uh…live in kind of a weird part of town.”

“Weird?” She said, starting to sound worried again. “That better mean odd weird, and not bad weird.”

“Its not that bad…it helps me write. Gets me back to my roots.” He insisted. “…I’m getting a new apartment soon, I promise.” He added quickly, hoping to get her to stop looking at him like that.

Phoenix sighed. “Alright, but you’re staying with me until you do.”

“What? Phoenix, you don’t need…”

“Your not some poor kid anymore, you don’t need to slum it.” She said with an accusing tone. “It unsafe and frankly a little insulting to people who don’t have a choice in the matter.”

He sighed, relenting. “Alright. But only until I find a new place.”

\---

Phoenix lived in the same place she had for years, a two bedroom apartment in an art deco style apartment building built in the early thirties. The interior of Phoenix’s apartment in particular was 'modernized' sometime in the fifties, no doubt the origin of the matching flamingo pink bathroom fixtures she coveted.

‘I could never bear to part with this place.’ Phoenix had said the first time he’d visited, which now felt like a lifetime ago. ‘Me and a roommate found it years ago when I first came to New York. I got the opportunity to buy it and you better believe I lay the money down for it in a hot second.’

‘What about the roommate?’ Winslow had asked.

‘She got married, never really liked the place as much as I did.’

It looked the same as he remembered, right down to the same dolls in the guest room staring vacantly forward from the dresser.

He stared back at them with concern, not too crazy about sleeping in the same room.

“I forgot you had the dolls.” He said when she walked in with a change of sheets and towels.

“My grandmother collected them.” She said with a little laugh, setting the sheets on the bed. “They do have their own storage boxes if you want me to put them away.”

“If you don’t mind, it is your apartment.” He said apologetically.

“That’s why I offered. I don’t really like looking at them myself, just the idea of looking at them if that makes any sense.”

“Well, I’d definitely appreciate that.”

She grinned. “…I bet if you looked hard enough in that creepy house I bet swan has a doll room.”

“I know right?” Winslow said, returning the grin. “They’d all be of him too.”

“ ‘Gifts from admirers’ he’d probably say.” She said in her lofty impression of Swan.

Winslow laughed. “…I told you about the painting right?”

“You skipped over that.”

“His family’s wealth goes back about five generations…as far as I know anyway, and he has at least one painting of one his predecessors, I can only assume there’s more… and it looked uncannily similar to him. ”

“Is that part of the reason you think he’s a vampire?”

He tusked, sitting down on the bed. “…I thought we agreed he wasn’t.” He pointed out.

“We agreed it was a crazy thing to say.” She answered, "But you did think it."

“Well what do you think then?”

She shrugged, sitting next to him. “Not saying I believe it, but I guess with Swan really anything is possible.”

He laughed a little to himself, before continuing. “…I don’t know, the paintings just made me think about it. I assume…if it were the case, he’d have been that way since after high school. Or not, maybe he can take photos, but he doesn’t because they’d be proof.”

“Or he could just be an eccentric weirdo.” She supplied with a little smile, nudging him playfully.

“…yeah, that’s the more likely possibility.” He admitted. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, for listening, I needed this. I didn’t know it but…I really did.”

“Of course.” She smiled, before hugging him. “…I missed you so much, don’t do that again.” She hissed into his shoulder, a fierceness to her tone.

“I won’t.” He muttered, hugging her back. “I’m sorry.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry, did I hear that right? Winslow’s staying with you?” Swan said with disbelief.

They were at a mascaraed gala at the Paradise Swan was holding , and Swan himself was hiding behind an ornate mask on as if his life depended on it, though he'd lowered it to talk to her. Phoenix stood by him, wearing a silver sequined and bead fringed mini dress, fluttering a matching fan at her face.

She shrugged, smiling modestly. “It’s only for a little while. He just got a new apartment, so he’ll be leaving to tomorrow.”

“I’m impressed. Jealous as hell, but impressed. I should’ve just sicked you on him months ago.”

“Did you know he was staying where he was?” Phoenix said with concern, and Swan sighed helplessly.

“Yes, he just wouldn’t talk to me though. I’d find him and he’d just run away. That’s all he was doing, running away.” He smiled sadly, giving her a look she’d only seen him make the night of the accident. “…I should’ve sent you.” He repeated morosely.

“I honestly have to admit I don’t wouldn’t have made any difference.” Phoenix relented. “And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.”

“You, try to make me feel better?” Swan said, throwing his head back and laughing, prompting looks from several other party goers. “Ridiculous.”

“I can be nice.” She said, giving him a dirty look.

“I didn’t say that, you just don’t sugar coat things, at least with me. I respect that. I could also ruin you for it, but given the circumstances I respect it.” He glanced at the dress. “Speaking of being upfront, that dress is ridiculous, you look like a fucking disco ball.”

She chuckled. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m more of a long gown fella myself.” He said it a matter of fact tone that made it hard to tell whether or not he was joking.

“Well, about Winslow, I think he needed time, needs time for that matter...” She said, trailing off as she stared worriedly ahead.

“He was spooked by something last time I saw him.” Swan said, calling he back to attention. “I know it, he left in too much of a hurry. What did he…” Swan continued reluctantly. “Did mention what he saw?”

“Do you have something to hide?”

“In that house, yes.” Swan said. “There are a lot of weirdos in my family, my great uncle was a medical doctor. The bad kind, and not even in a ‘it was in the past before they knew better’ kind of bad. I always think I’ve thrown away the last of his creepy medical paraphernalia-“

“Swan…”

“…But more of it always shows up. I don’t understand it. I half expect to find a fetus preserved in formaldehyde or some poor schizophrenic's brain cut up into studiable slices.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with your scary great uncle." Phoenix said dismissively.

"But it is something." Swan insisted, narrowing his eyes at her.

Phoenix huffed in mild frustration. "I think it was Winslow being spooked. You know how he is these days, he runs away from shadows.” It wasn't completely a lie, the whole thing had to be in his head.

Swan assumed she was keeping something from him, but changed the subject in lue of pressing it. “…I tried to invite him to this tonight, was kind of hoping he’d feel more comfortable because of the masks.”

“It just as well, I think Beef is going to be here tonight.” Phoenix said. “He’s probably still pissed about it.”

“Beef or Winslow?” Swan said with a confused frown. “That could go either way.”

“Take your pick.” She said looking around. “Speaking of which, where is Beef?”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Though Phoenix had put the dolls away, Winslow still couldn’t sleep in that room. Maybe it was the lack of gunshots and police sirens or maybe it was because he kept thinking about that damn yearbook. He knew it was absurd but there was defiantly something off about it, he didn’t care what Phoenix said.

Phoenix herself wasn’t there, she was out attending a masquerade party Swan invited him to, but instead of going he was trying to get some rest for once.

But try as he might he couldn’t so he got up and went to the kitchen to make some tea. No sooner than he did was there a knocking at the door.  
He looked through to see a panic stricken Beef standing there out in the hallway, eye’s darting around.

“I know you’re in there Phoenix, I can see you moving around under the door!” He demanded. “I need help…”  
Winslow debated not answering but it occurred to him Phoenix wouldn’t be happy to learn he just ignored him, especially if it was an emergency. He made sure the chain was up before opening the door.

“Thank Go-“ He squinted at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Friend of Phoenix’s?” He said hopefully, though knew the game was up the minute he talked.

Beef’s face contorted in a frown. “Son ofva Bitch, you’re that fucker who attacked me.”

Winslow struggled with a response. “I…I’m not sure who, I mean what you’re talking about.”

Beef laughed unsettlingly at that. “Right. You gonna let me in, Leach?”

“No…your high off your ass, I don’t think Phoenix would appreciate it if I did that.”

“Naw, you wouldn’t appreciate if you did it. As for Phoenix, I don’t think she’d be very happy about finding me in the hallway.”

He sighed, seeing his point, and opened the door to let Beef in. “Don’t break anything, and stay in the kitchen.”

“Ooo, yes sir.” Muttered Beef. He dramatically threw his coat off, a brown leather fur trimmed thing that came all the way to his knees, and with minimal effort hung it on the coat rack by the door.

Despite the fact beef was wearing boots with heals someone as high as he was had no business wearing he managed to make it from the door to Phoenix’s dinette set in the kitchen with some dignity, and Winslow couldn’t help but be a little impressed.

Winslow started prepping a cup for himself, a beef looked at him hopefully. “Ain’t you gonna offer me some of that Leach?”

“…I didn’t think you were much of a tea drinker.” Winslow said with a shrug. “And don’t call me that.”

“I happen to think it suits you. And Phoenix always offers me tea when I’m here, so...”

“…Do you want some tea?” He said begrudgingly after a moment.

“Yeah, why not.” Beef said. “There still any of that peppermint dream or whatever it’s called? Got little frolicking polar bears on the box?”

Winslow got a bag from the aforementioned box in the cupboard, put it in a cup and set it down in front of Beef. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Beef said dryly as he watched Winslow pour hot water from the pot into his mug. Winslow noted he had eyeliner on and had a little cupid heart on his cheek, which matched the frilly red tunic he wore that looked like something that might’ve come from Swan’s wardrobe, if it had been three sizes smaller.

“…So, What are you doing here, you Mitch’s replacement?” He drawled, referring to Phoenix’s ex boyfriend.

“They did break up, but we aren’t a thing no. Something just happened with my apartment and Phoenix let me stay here.” He stole a look at beef as he sat down, who was intently focusing on dumping spoonful’s of sugar in his tea from the little jar on the table, muttering to himself as he did. “That’s the question you chose to ask? Am I dating Phoenix?”

Beef started a bit when he spoke again, sending sugar cascading across the linoleum. “...I wouldn’t put it past her. She has dated some real creeps.”

“Phoenix wouldn’t date me sooner then she’d dated Swan, it’s be too weird.”

Beef just hummed in response, sipping his tea.

“Been there and done it, right?” Winslow snapped.

“She’s not really my type.” He said with a laugh.

“No, I meant…nevermind.”

Beef went somber, mouthing as he grappled for words. “If you mean Swan I ain’t ever been with him. Did Curtis tell you that? Because it’s a god damn lie.”

“Whose Curtis?” Winslow said with mild confusion.

Beef laughed nervously at that, sweat speckling his brow. He shakily ran his fingers through his curly hair, looking miserable. It was hard for Winslow to believe this was the same guy he threatened, and for the first time he was actually starting to feel sorry for him. “I didn’t fuck my way to stardom if that’s what you’re saying. I’m a legitimate artist.”

“You didn’t do it because you were attracted to him I’m sure.” Winslow said bitterly.

“So you did talk to Curtis!” Beef exclaimed. “That fucking weasel…”

“I heard you say it.” Winslow said, not able to keep the anger from his voice.

Beef sat in silence for a moment, making silent calculation before a big grin spread over his face. He slapped the table sending their drinks sloshing over the brims of both their cups onto the table. “Holy shit…you’re jealous!”

“What? No…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Winslow said defensively, grabbing a few napkins to mop up the mess.

“No, I remember now, I was talking to Curtis about Swan, and then he leaves and you show up out of nowhere and go ballistic.”

“I’m not jealous.” Winslow emphasized.

Beef hummed sympathetically. “Oh, I don’t blame you. I don’t remember the details but I’m sure it was shitty of me. I get it, I’ve done stupider things when it comes to men I’ve been into.”

“I’m not attracted to…I told you, it was about the music.”

“Fine, it’s the music.” Said Beef sarcastically as he sat back in his chair. “You know, it might sound funny, but I was actually relieved when I saw you answer the door.”

“You were? Because I thought you’d, I don’t know…lose it when you saw me.”

“…I thought you were chasin’ me, that’s why I came here in the first place.” Beef said with a tired shrug. “I suppose I should still be worried though, shouldn’t I?”

Winslow laughed uneasily. “If I were you I would be, but you shouldn’t be, I’m…I’m past that now.”

“Is that right?” Beef said with a smirk.

“Too much to lose now anyway.” Winslow admitted. “Should I be worried about you?”

Beef grimaced a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I swore I was gonna make a stink about it if I ever saw your sorry ass again, but I have a soft spot for guys who stick up for their men.”

“Christ…” Muttered Winslow, putting his face in his arms. “That’s not what it was about.” His synthesized voice came out muffled from within his arms.

“I didn’t catch that hun.” Beef said.

“That’s not what it was about.” Winslow repeated, lifting his head.

“Why are you still wearing gadget thing by the way? I thought you were just using it to be mysterious.” He said suddenly, referring to the voice box.

“Just for kicks.” Winslow said sarcastically, before falling serious. “I need it to talk, Swan made it for me after…you know.”

“Nifty.” Beef muttered, studying it. “He’d know how to do that sort of thing, he’s a genius.”

Winslow scoffed in disbelief. “Oh now he’s a genius.”

Beef looked up at him from the device. “Look, I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean that shit. I mean, he’s not really my type but I don’t think he’s…what did I say?”

“I believe the phrase ‘inbred white trash’ was used.”

“See, I don’t really feel he’d that bad. He’s cute, and knows what he’s doing when it comes to another fella, which is a lot to say. Not that I think even he’s in your league.”

Winslow almost lost at that again but then noticed Beef was looking at him expectantly and he laughed. “What’s the hell was that?”

“Reverse psychology. I thought it was worth a shot.” Beef said laughing along with him. “For a freak you actually don’t look that bad.” He said with a wink. “…If you know what I’m saying.”

“You must be very high.” Winslow said dismissively.

“Hey, I was stone cold sober when I slept with Swan, high has nothing to do with it.”

“Okay, I’m not sure what you’re saying now, is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Shit…I guess that didn’t sound very good did it?...I don’t know, I’m not thinking very straight right now…or you know, ever.” He broke out into giggles again.

Winslow smiled uncomfortably, glancing around the kitchen as if it would give him some way out of this conversation.

“I’m just saying, when it comes to sex I know what I want, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Not really.” Winslow said.

“I’m saying you’re like a sexy robot.” Beef said in a hushed voice with forced wink. “What do you think about that?”

“I think I have to go.” Winslow said stumbling out of his seat and toward the door. When he reached it he ran into Phoenix who looked at him with surprise.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” She said, still wearing that blindingly silver dress she’d worn to the party.

“I have to go.” He repeated, brushing past her. She looked confusingly around the apartment, eyes falling on Beef who looked at here innocently.

“He let me in.” He said.

“I’m sure.” She said tiredly, walking over, looking at the mugs. “…Were you having tea?” She said with astonishment.

“Settling our differences. Apparently me and your weird little friend have a lot more in common than one would assume.”

“Why’d he run out in such a hurry then?” Phoenix asked critically, heavily sitting down across from Beef.

“Ah, I uh…I might’ve called him a sexy robot.” He admitted with embarrassment.

Phoenix couldn't help but laugh at that. “I’m sorry, but…sexy robot? That’s horrible.”

“We were having fun, I overshot.” He said helplessly. “But never mind about that, how was the party?”

“Okay I guess, I ended up leaving early so I don’t fully know. Surprised you didn’t go, thought that’d be right up your ally.”

“I had other things on my mind, mostly involving him…” He said as he gestured towards the door, referring to Winslow. “It’ll be nice not to worry about that anymore by the way.”

Phoenix felt a pang of envy at Beef’s assurance about Winslow. Hell, she’s settle for assurance of Beef’s assurance come cold sobering light of morning. “Well I’m glad you two could work it out.” She managed to reply without broadcasting her doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been sparse on the Winslow/Swan front these last two chapters, but I'm defiantly geting back to it next chapter!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a holiday/new year’s post, but uh…some stuff happened, so I thought I’d take a break from it for a couple of weeks out of courtesy.

After dashing out of phoenix’s place he went straight to his new apartment, where most of his things were now, including his ‘costume.’

He’d gotten it weeks ago for the masquerade gala: a black three piece suit with a silver vest and a black shirt that had more ruffles then he ever thought he’d ever willingly go with but he’d discovered they concealed his voice box particularly well. He’d chosen to finish it off with a red velvet cape and the closest thing he could find that resembled a mask that he liked: a silver helmet that had a front piece that resembled something of a beak.

 _Its only eleven, the party is supposed to end around one, He_ thought hopefully. He hadn’t blown his chance, he reasoned as he got dressed. He tried not to pay too much attention to how silly he felt. _It’s a party,_ he reminded himself as he took one final look at himself in the mirror _, everyone’s going to look silly._

 His only fear was that Swan would’ve already left. In Winslow’s experience Swan tended to leave parties early, but he didn’t let that deter him. Spurred on by the knowledge at the very worst he could there without anyone seeing him he was able to leave his apartment confidently. Though when he really thought about it, that itself didn’t cause him as much comfort as it used to.  He’d been gradually taking steps away from the life of a bitter recluse, and as he did it seemed less and less who he was anymore.

The party was still in full swing when he got to the Paradise, and with a deep breath he ventured in with determination, but no one seemed to pay him any mind to his surprise. He supposed he hadn’t accounted how drunk people would be, too preoccupied with themselves and their friends. 

“Hey watch where you’re going!” One of the party goers in his blind spot said when he clipped them.

Though he might not stay so un-noticed if he kept running into people. This might’ve not been such a good idea he thought to himself, heart sinking.

He saw Floyd at the sidelines and he felt a flood of relief, making his way toward him.

“Floyd.” He said when he’d finally made his way to him. “Your still here, I suppose that mean’s Swan is to too.”

“He’s somewhere around here…You lost me a hundred bucks by the way.”

“Come again?”

“I told Swan it was ridiculous inviting you, bet money against it even, but he was determined."

“I guess you don’t know me.” Winslow said wearily.

“…It’s a bet I’m happy to lose.” Floyd glanced somewhere over his shoulder and smiled a little before walking away.

Winslow turned to see Swan behind him wearing a floor length red form fitting coat that he could only describe as something Russian royalty would wear. He pushed a large matching dark red feathered mask from his face to reveal a look of delight. “…I told him you’d come.”

“That was foolish of you to believe, I almost didn’t truth be told.”

Swan shrugged, looking him up and down, saying something in that coy flirtatious voice that normally Winslow would’ve loved but couldn’t hear for shit over the noise of the party and through the helmet.

“What?” He said, and Swan rolled his eyes, signing: _You clean up well._

 _Show off._ Winslow signed back, the big grin on his face now.

Swan looked over at the band as the music changed song and his face lit up. “I love this song, won’t you join me?”

“What are you crazy? In front of--"

“No one’s gonna notice, if anything it’ll look weird if we don’t.”  Swan pleaded a little, putting his mask back on. “Just one little song.”

“Alright.” Winslow relented, not really understand Swan’s logic but taking his hand anyway and letting himself be lead to the dance floor, though when they got there he took Swan in his arm with a natural ease, leading them with confident steps.

“You’ve don’t this before.” Swan said, with a little surprise.

“Just the basics, I had a girlfriend in highschool who got me into it. Why she insisted on being infatuated with me, I still don’t know why.”

“You’re very attractive, of course she was.” Swan said frankly, and Winslow laughed dismissively at that.

“…You don’t know what you’re saying, I was awkward as hell back then, more so then now.”

“You have a certain dorky charm.” Swan said. “…And despite your self-depreciation I think part of you knows how to use it.” He added teasingly.

Winslow tusked dismissively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Winslow said, though he couldn’t help but smile still, something about holding Swan close making him feel alright. Almost as if he didn’t care what anyone thought.

Almost, that is. “Are you sure-” he started a he looked around nervously, interrupted by Swan laughing.

“Yes, it’ll be fine.”  He said. “Even if anyone recognizes either of us...I’m the boss, remember?”

“I should remember that more often.” He said sheepishly. “…I was worried you would be gone by the time I got here, you always tend to leave early.”

“Well now, it would be rude of me not to be here after inviting you here, wouldn’t it?” Swan said, a little taken aback.

“Well thank you, For inviting me. I’m glad I came after all.” He said, meaning every word of it.

“What made you change your mind?” Swan asked.

“It sounds funny…but Beef.”  Winslow said. “I was at Phoenix’s apartment and he just…showed up.”

“He just showed up?” Swan said with alarm.

“He was looking for Phoenix.” He shrugged helplessly. “…It turned out alright believe it or not.”

“Really?” Swan retorted in disbelief. “…You’re not just joshin’ me?”

“Well…I guess he still could end up being mad at me later, he was a little high. But even so…I thing it went alright.”

“Alright enough to start working with him?” Swan said gingerly and Winslow growled a little.

“Do you every think about anything other then work?” He muttered irritably.

“Fine, Sorry.” Swan said dejectedly.

“It just…I’m just starting to enjoy this, and don’t really want to talk about work.”

“We’ll rain check it.” Swan compromised.

 Winslow grinned mischievously, sweeping them around a little too dramatically, cape swooshing behind him before dipping Swan.

“I hate to say this…” Swan said breathlessly when he was righted, “…But maybe you should tone it down, for the sake of not drawing attention.”

Winslow's face went a bit red with embarassment “I guess I just got caught up in the moment.”

"Just the basics huh?" Swan said teasingly.

"Well, basic ballroom." Winslow admited begrudgingly.

“One of these days when where alone you’re going to show me all these killer dance moves you’ve been keeping up your sleeve from me.” Swan said.

“I’m really not that good.” Winslow protested. “…but alright, it’s a date.”

They were passing a door and Swan pulled away, taking his hand. “Come, I want to show you something.” He said impulsively, towing him through the door and away from the party.

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” He said with a laugh as they seceded from the throng into a hallway, music and party chatter fading. There was an outside balcony across from there, a pair of glass doors the only thing between them and the outside.

They stepped through, bone chilling winter air greeting them, the city seemingly shining brighter in the cold.

“Nice view.” He acknowledged, worried for a second he sounded patronizing, he really did mean it. He was certainly glad to get away from the party: having Swan so close to him and not being able to do the things that every fiber of his being screamed for him to do was practically suffocating.

Swan pulled his mask off, letting it fall through his grasp to the ground as he shook his blond locks loose casually. “It’s supposed to snow tonight.” He said, shivering as he spoke, moving to grasp the balcony but withdrawing his hands in favor of tucking them in his coat pockets, remembering the fact the thin black dress gloves he wore were little protection from the cold.  “I was hoping we’d get to see some.” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“It’s still a nice view.” Winslow consoled, standing behind him and wrapping the cape around then both. He could feel Swan’s shivering slowly subside in his arms.

“Well I was hoping for snow.” Swan insisted. He sounded different when then were pressed up against each other, not just because he was closer but something about them touching made his tone sound different, more gentle, more relaxed.

“…Did I do something…to make you leave like you did the other day?” Swan asked after a while, interrupting Winslow’s silent musings.

“What are you talking about?” Winslow asked, not expecting Swan to ask it until much later, if at all.

 “You know, the morning after last time we…” Swan trailed off, before charging into the next sentence. “I’m sorry, I just need to know.”

“It was the yearbook, it might’ve freaked me out a bit.” Winslow said, honesty coming to him a little too easily.

Swan laugh a little. “Christ…that was it?”

“You looked exactly like you do now.” Winslow protested. “That’s not exactly a small deal.”

Swan stepped away, turning around to face him. “…It’s weird and…complicated.” he said, folding his arms across himself. “I really should’ve said something that morning, I’m sorry if it worried you.”

“I don’t need to know.” Winslow insisted as the first flakes of snow started to fall. Swan looked up with wonderment, and he couldn’t help but be touched by seeing the usually unsympathetic music mogul with that expression on him face. He supposed it wasn’t just the snow, but the night in particular. It was…defiantly memorable, one of those nights where you tried to memorize every second.

He did very much need to know whatever Swan wanted to tell him, but not now.

The snow started falling steadily and Winslow stepped under the protection of the overhang, taking swan’s hand and gently pulling him with him. 

“It was a stupid teenage whim.” Swan continued. “I was stoned and not thinking clearly-“ He said, starting to ramble  and Winslow squeezed his hand as if to bring him back, before taking him in his arms again, this time so they were chest to chest.

“…You don’t have to say it now, really.” Winslow insisted, speaking gently. “It didn’t end well last time you tried, remember?”

“I appreciate that…but even if you freak out at least it’ll be for the right reasons.” Swan said bitterly. “Maybe it sounds pointless but I’ve never been one to favor being disliked for the wrong ones.”

Winslow  shrugged a little, looking down at swan, admiring how beautiful he looked in blue glow of the city at night and wishing he’d just shut up. “…I was wondering if it could wait a little while longer before you did.” He said hintingly, taking Swan’s face in his hand.

Swan tusked, relenting. “…Fine.” He said, stretching up to his toes to invite a kiss. Winslow tried to reciprocate for but only managed to whack Swan in the face with the front piece of the helmet he still wore. Winslow pulled it off, dropping it on the now snowy balcony where it landed with an ugly clunk a few feet from where Swan had dropped his own mask. “God I fucking hate wearing that thing.”

Swan hummed sympathetically, wrapping an arm around Winslow’s neck and bringing him down to his level. They both laughed silently, breaths visible in the frosty air before they joined lips, kissing slowly and tenderly, though there was something horribly desperate about it. Maybe it was just what Winslow himself was feeling but given the way Swan grasped at him hinted that the other man felt similar.

They lingered like that until either he or Swan broke away, he wasn't sure about who, and leaned against the wall in each others arms to watch the snow as it fell.

“God I’m so tired.” Winslow said.

“Long night?” Swan asked, sympathetically.

“Long year.” Winslow. replied, and Swan chuckled.

“…God it has been hasn’t it?” Swan agreed. “Not to make it about me…but you really scared me there for a while.” He said, nestling into Winslow’s shoulder, and Winslow hugged him a little tighter.

 “I could’ve made it easier,” Winslow reminisced. “…I’m not sure how, but I could’ve been nicer.”

“It’s alright.” Swan said uncomfortably, sounding like he didn't mean it.

“I could’ve been more considerate.” Winslow insisted. “When you gave me the voice box for instance…I’m sure you really did mean well.”

“I was so mad at you for that…” Swan said with a sad little chuckle. “I get it but…I was so damn mad at you.”

“That’s fair, not that I’m excusing all that Beef bullshit.” He said.

“Oh I’m not apologizing for that.” Swan teased, looking up at him, a smug little grin on his face. “…And you have to admit, you like him. As a person I mean, not just a performer.”

“He’s decent.” Winslow confessed, looking down at Swan who watched the snow with enchantment again. Winslow looked at the snow himself and the smile he wore faded a little. He didn’t like to admit it but he didn’t quite feel the same way about snow and winter as Swan.

“How can you like the snow so much? It’s so cold, so unfriendly.”

“Its…I don’t know, peaceful.” Swan said, with a shrug. “It just feels like home to me.”

“…I think we must have some different ideas about of what home is.” Winslow said a little reluctantly.

Swan smiled sadly at that. “…I’ve been thinking a lot about that. About what you said, about wanting to be where it’s warm. You mean so much to me but sometimes I think we’re like the sun and the moon.”

“Tell me, in this little scenario who’s the sun and who’s the moon?”

“Christ, you’re the sun of course.” Swan said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People like you are the reason people like me shine. Only difference is you know it and it made you fearless…you always knew it.”

“I was fearless because I knew you liked me.”

“You would’ve been fearless whatever the situation was.” Swan said with annoyance. “I don’t know whether that’s amazingly brave or astoundingly stupid.”

Winslow just laughed a little, pausing a minute to think about something Swan said a moment before.

“…I’m not going anywhere by the way, at least for now.” Winslow said finally. “If you were worried about that.”

Swan scoffed. “…I wasn’t worried. Besides, you can go where ever you want.” He said defensively, and Winslow could feel him puffing himself out like he always did when he got annoyed or prideful, and Winslow had to hold back a laugh. Curse Phoenix for pointing out the fact he looked like Henery hawk the Chicken Hawk when he did that.

 “Well, I’m not going anywhere anyway. All the people I consider family are here, that’s not something you don’t just abandon. It’s funny, when I ran into Beef it made me think…”

“Think about what?” Swan asked.

“I don’t know…he reminded about how much I loved working at Death Records. Interacting with the other music folks I mean, I really do miss that. I want to try and come back. For real I mean, no more hiding.”

“Well I for one would be very happy if you did, and I think people at Death Records miss you too.” Swan said. “I mean, yes they talk, but that’s only because their confused.”

“Really? Confused?” Winslow said with a little doubt.

“…Well whatever they are, they’ll straighten out or else, if you get my drift.”

 “God, you’re such a bastard sometimes Swan, but I have to admit I get a weird sense of satisfaction when you’re a bastard on my behalf.”

“Oh I’m bad to the bone for you baby.” Swan crooned, and Winslow groaned in annoyance.

“Sorry, that was awful.” Swan said with a laugh. “You uh…wanna to get out of here?”

Winslow faltered, not too keen on going back to that big scary house. “…Maybe we could get something to eat first? I’m a little hungry.”

 “Fine.” Swan said a little disappointedly. “I suppose I could eat. I know a nice place that doesn’t close till three.”

When they got outside a taxi pulled up and Phoenix and Beef got out, playfully arguing about something.

Part of him prayed they wouldn’t notice them, but it didn’t work because Beef spotted them immediately. He brightened up, and attempted to run over. He would've toppled over on the icy ground but Phoenix was luckily still was in arms reach to stop him.

Winslow felt a laugh bubble up from him, the sight of Beef bounding over like a golden retriever making forget for a moment the grudge he insisted on holding towards him.

“Oh my goodness, Its Winslow! And Swan! We were just talking about them weren’t we?” Beef consulted Phoenix in awe as he still used her to steady himself.

“Uh…yes, we were.” Phoenix answered in humoring amusement. Where’d you come from?” She asked, directing the question towards Winslow.

“I could ask the same of you guys.” Winslow replied.

“Well I was thinking of making an appearance after all,” Beef announced as he pulled himself up to his full six feet, plus three inches in those god damn boots. “…But I was tellin’ Phoenix: ‘I don’t go to parties alone, so I ain’t goin’ if you don’t go with me.’” He frowned a little, suddenly realizing Swan and Winslow were leaving the party. “Where are you guy’s going though?”

“Well uh…” Swan started awkwardly, glancing at Winslow.

“We were going to get something to eat, you guys could come along…if you want.” Winslow offered.

“That sounds fantastic, what do you think Beef?” Phoenix exclaimed, looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah, that sounds…great…” He said, distracted by the party. “…I just have to make an appearance, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” He sauntered inside, whooping in exclamation when he burst through the doors, to which the partygoers reciprocated wholeheartedly.

“Christ, I should go in there to make sure he actually comes back.” She said with mild exasperation, taking a moment to look Winslow up and down. “Glad you decided to come after all Winslow, nice get-up.” And with that she disappeared after Beef into the throng.

While Winslow watched her go, and he felt a little tug on the hem of his cape. He looked down to see Swan looking questioningly at him. “Are you really okay with this?”

Winslow shrugged, when he thought about it he really was. “I think I am. More there okay really.” He hugged himself a little, noticing Floyd having smoke as he waited by Swan’s silver Bentley. “…Though maybe we could wait in the car?”

“Oh god yes, who knows how long they’re going to take.” Swan said, shivering a little again. “Then maybe afterwards, after all this, we could …still have some time to ourselves?” Swan said in a low suggestive tone, bumping him with his shoulder a little.

“Only if we can go to my new place, I’m still setting it up, but it’s functional.” Winslow said, to which Swan laughed at, shaking his head a little.

“…I’d actually really like that.” Swan replied finally as they walked to the car together. “I really would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! defiantly one of my favorite chapters to write. (this isn't the end of the series btw, I would Iike to eventually write a final part to wrap everything up.


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